


Whiskey

by ToyBoxOfSuz



Series: The Customer [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse, Alternate Universe - Escorts, Dubious Consent, Escort Service, Hand Jobs, M/M, Molestation, Steter - Freeform, peter is an ass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-04
Updated: 2013-11-04
Packaged: 2017-12-31 12:27:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1031707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToyBoxOfSuz/pseuds/ToyBoxOfSuz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles works as an 'unofficial escort' and he has a pain in the ass customer Peter Hale. This time Peter acts a bit strange; alcohol and glowing eyes involved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whiskey

**Author's Note:**

> Betaed by Evy~

It was late at night. Very late at night. And Stiles was wondering why the hell he was still doing this. He was supposed to end this. He was supposed to _stop_ turning up when Peter called. Especially after last time.

Peter was his customer for a while now, and he was giving him money for blowjobs. That was it; that was supposed to be it. But Peter aimed to be his most annoying customer of the year and asked things Stiles wouldn’t do for the others. Like going out with him in public. The other night they went to see that stupid opera. Or more like Peter dragged him there to satisfy his perverted needs. He was acting rather invasive all night, ignoring every warning Stiles gave him, and yet Stiles still called him in the morning. Still left him a message that maybe they could think something up. That if Peter takes it a bit more slowly they could just maybe step past their business relationship and start something that doesn’t involve money. Not like that. And what did Peter do? Stiles was sure he would jump on the opportunity. But he hadn’t.

Peter never called him. Instead, Lydia phoned Stiles that Peter had sent her his payment and a bit of an extra, and had messaged that he will call him when he needs his services again.

Stiles had never felt more foolish in his life. He was ready to give the fucker a chance, to ruin his perfect business principles and maybe get it on with a customer of his. And Peter Hale took it as a chance to show he can be a much bigger asshole than Stiles thought. The boy swore to himself he’s not going to see the man again and he told this to Lydia as well.

He told Lydia if Peter calls her she should inform him that Stiles is out of business for him. Not anymore. Never again.

And yet, Stiles was getting out of the taxi in the middle of the fucking night, in front of Peter Hale’s mansion. He came just because Peter’s secretary or personal assistant or _slave_ had called him to say her boss wants to see him as soon as possible. And Stiles wanted to say no. He wanted to say no. Then he was offered thrice the price of the usual which had already been pretty much. Peter really wanted him tonight.

So Stiles ended up getting a taxi to Peter’s and hated himself a little. Because it wasn’t just the money and it didn’t matter how much he tried to ignore that, it bugged him.

He walked up the white stairs to the porch and rang the doorbell. After a few minutes of waiting he decided it won’t hurt if he lets himself in. The door opened at first try; it wasn’t locked to Stiles’ greatest surprise. Peter was always careful about safety so his front door being unlocked stroke Stiles as a bit uncommon from him. But then again, the man was insane.

“Oh, great, let yourself in.” he heard Peter’s hoarse voice and jumped a little. The man was standing right in front of him, probably just seconds away from opening the door for him if Stiles had been more patient. But it wasn’t Peter’s closeness what scared the boy. It was his whole stance. Judging by his suit he must have come from a party or a ball. His jacket was thrown over the sofa not far from them. “You’re late.” Peter remarked as he yanked his black tie loose.

“I came as soon as I could, the traffic was hell.” Stiles snapped, eying the man. He was used to Peter being strange at times. Sometimes outright scary. The boy was always cautious when he discovered another mood of his. Stiles had to be careful because he knew that no matter how much Peter wanted to get in his pants, he was also capable of hurting him.

He should have stayed home, but no, he had to come. Because Peter called.

“Let’s get to it then.” the man turned and threw away his tie. Stiles just noticed the glass in his hand which explained his mood. Probably. Peter wasn’t much of a drinker. He enjoyed fine taste, but he was never drunk or even tipsy as far as Stiles knew. Maybe that’s why his mood was strange, he was drinking and not for the fine taste.

The boy sighed a little nervously and slipped his messenger bag off his shoulder to put it down. He walked after Peter, smelling something sweet in the air. It was similar to a flowery perfume.

“What’s this…” Stiles started but when he watched Peter fill up his glass again from a bottle, he realized it wasn’t a perfume. It was some kind of drink. It also explained the slight alcoholic scent of it. The whole room was basking in this aroma, and Stiles had to wonder what kind of drink it could be. Something way strong. “… drink?” He finished his question.

“Whiskey.” Peter answered and threw himself down on the sofa with his legs spread. His hand, which held the already half empty glass, was laying on the armrest. He didn’t say anything else, just raised an eyebrow at Stiles.

Stiles licked his lips nervously. He wanted to move but Peter’s gaze made him unable to do anything. His expression was blank, but Stiles still felt like he was looking into the eyes of an animal. A wild animal on top of that, which was capable of tearing him to pieces. Well, wasn’t that a splendid description of Peter Hale? Stiles was suddenly not so sure anymore if he wanted to be here.

“What are you waiting for?” Peter snapped and Stiles took a step back. The man’s voice had more volume as he was talking, and his eyes…

“Are you okay?” Stiles couldn’t help but ask, even if he wasn’t sure if it was a good idea. His own eyes widened as he was staring back into Peter’s. The man’s glance was bluer than usual, almost glowing. Maybe it was the dim lights, but Stiles swore that Peter’s eyes were _glowing_ blue.

Peter didn’t answer his question, just motioned him over, clearly at the end of his patience. So Stiles finally forced himself to move and dropped on his knees between the man’s legs. He swallowed as he started fumbling with his pants again. It was routine work, he’s done this numerous times and yet his hands were still shaking. Stiles wanted to ask what happened; why Peter’s acting like this, but he just couldn’t speak. The sweet smell of the strange whiskey, the tension Peter’s limbs and gaze emitted were practically strangling him. Stiles was glad he was on his knees because he was sure he wouldn’t be able to stand anymore.

The boy took a deep breath to calm himself just enough so he could unbutton Peter’s trousers and slide his fingers inside his boxers. It surprised him that the man wasn’t even half hard. Stiles was used to Peter being pretty excited the moment he saw him, so when they finally got to the point where Stiles would start his business, Peter was already hard or well on his way. Tonight was indeed a strange night. Stiles wanted to ask again if Peter was alright, but he knew it was in vain. And he didn’t care, why would he care?

Stiles bit in his lips as he groped Peter and tried to stroke him a few times. But nothing happened. Peter’s body wasn’t reacting. Stiles gave a nervous breath and leaned in to nuzzle and even lick to try and get some life into it, but it seemed like their little friend wasn’t up for playing tonight. Which was frustrating for Stiles because he was sure Peter will blame him for it.

“Is something the matter?” Peter asked in a quiet, tense voice when Stiles pulled away.

“You know, I’m trying.” he answered with a hiss. “But I can’t do wonders.”

“Well, you will now.” the man retorted and lifted his glass to his lips. The boy glared at him being extremely done with Peter’s shit.

“Maybe if you would stop drinking!“ Stiles snapped because he was getting just as mad as Peter felt. It’s not his fault this dumb idiot got himself drunk so bad that he wasn’t able to get it up! And it’s not his business why he was drinking and why he was looking like someone who got hit by a bus repeatedly. It’s not Stiles’ business and it’s not his fault and he shouldn’t feel this concerned about it.

Peter moved his arm then and Stiles got alarmed. He gasped and ducked his head to prepare for the blow, but Peter did something else. He slammed his glass on the floor next to Stiles, breaking it into a thousand little pieces. The sweet smell of the whiskey had gotten stronger and Stiles needed a few seconds to get used to it. It wasn’t exactly unpleasant but the fear of being hurt by Peter made his stomach clench up to the point where he almost got sick. That together with the wrenching smell of the whiskey didn’t do him much good.

But the man didn’t move after he broke his glass. Stiles felt it was safe and slowly raised his head to look into Peter’s face. He considered running; he could easily hit Peter where it would most certainly hurt and then he would flee. It was a great plan.

But those blue, glowing eyes were looking at him like prey, making him immobile. Peter didn’t move and Stiles didn’t either. They were both waiting for something.

It was Stiles who broke the tension. He decided that he was taking the challenge; he was not going to be prey, no matter how he felt like one. He was going to make this fucking work.

“Fuck you.” he hissed and pushed against Peter’s chest as he climbed up and straddled his lap. In his wet dreams it was a place he occupied quite often. He was riding Peter like this so many times before but in reality not even once, and he never will, because Peter was a dangerous madman. It was proven again with the way he was still looking at him as if he wanted to bite a piece out of his throat. “Fuck you, fuck you!” Stiles snarled as he reached out to pull Peter close, with his face against his neck, knowing the man liked to put his lips there. He shivered as his hot breath ghosted upon his skin. “You’re the worst, fucking customer I’ve ever had, I shouldn’t be here, and I should sue you for a whole lot of things!” Stiles continued his ranting against Peter’s ear as he reached down again to take him into his hands.

Stiles absently wondered if Peter was sick, since his skin was burning up. He was hot to the touch and there was no way that was healthy. The boy just prayed he wouldn’t end up being one of those people who caused someone to drop dead because of sexual stimulation. He wouldn’t be able to look into the eyes of his friends anymore. His thoughts got interrupted when Peter slipped his hands on his thighs and Stiles let him. He actually wondered if it will help Peter’s case if he was allowed to touch him.

“You smell incredible.” Peter muttered into his neck in a hoarse voice. Stiles could feel his lips against his skin again just moments before his teeth were grazing over sensitive areas. The boy sucked in a sharp breath.

“Don’t you dare to fucking bite me.” he bit back and his fingers squeezed Peter again, while he slipped his other hand lower to knead at his balls for good measure. The man continued to nuzzle his neck, licking and still nibbling at the skin there. He even lifted one hand up to tug at the neck of Stiles’ shirt to get to the skin of his collarbone. None of it was unpleasant, but none of his clients were allowed to do that. Stiles stepped over his principles once again for Peter Selfish Asshole Hale. But after a few seconds he could feel the man getting harder under his treatment. Stiles let out a relieved sigh and nuzzled into Peter’s cheek before he knew what he was doing. “Yes…” he breathed as he felt Peter getting harder by the second.

Peter had gotten rock hard in no time, leaking pre-cum which Stiles used to make his work wetter and thus more comfortable for both of them. He sometimes brushed his thumb over the head, and squeezed where he knew Peter was sensitive. He knew Peter’s cock pretty well at this point as it was a returning tool in his dreams.

“Do you want me to suck it now?” he asked then and he had to realize he was out of breath. The touch and feel of Peter’s hard member affected him too, and Stiles couldn’t feel any more unprofessional at this point. Even if he wasn’t really a professional, but that was not the point. His mouth watered at the thought of taking Peter again and he had to swallow to prevent any drool escaping his lips.

“No, this is good.” Peter answered as he tilted his head and pressed his forehead against Stiles’. His blue eyes pierced the boy’s and Stiles once again had to suppress a shiver. Peter was warm, smelled like alcohol and sex and Stiles felt himself getting drunk too. Because when the man came closer to kiss the corner of his mouth, he was the one turning his head to meet him. Stiles was the one kissing him this time and he couldn’t care less anymore. He gave a weak noise when he tasted the sweet whiskey on Peter’s lips and tongue. It was indeed a strong drink, because Stiles already felt it going to his head which wasn’t a good thing. He was losing control.

“Peter…” he breathed between kisses when a big hand came up to cup the back of his head. Stiles had no restraints anymore and he decided to get more of the special taste by licking into Peter’s mouth. His hands set a steady rhythm pumping Peter as if he was doing it to himself, which he so wanted to do too. He just wanted to take his own already hard cock out and pleasure them together, but that was absolutely forbidden. The thought made him moan as he was sucking on Peter’s tongue and he arched his back as if he was already acting on his dirty fantasy.

At that moment, as if he knew what Stiles was thinking about, Peter squeezed his thigh near the spot the boy really wanted those hands to be. And Stiles couldn’t help moaning again and stroking Peter with more vehement. He needed to end this then and there or else he wasn’t sure how long he could last. His head was spinning and his body just wanted to be pressed against Peter’s and wanted to stay all night under him, holding onto him, sucking him and do every dirty little thing he was always thinking about in the shower or before going to sleep and after waking up.

Before Stiles could even protest, Peter reached under his thighs and laid him down on the sofa, pressing him hard against the cushions. The boy gave a startled sound, not letting go of Peter’s cock, but stopped moving his hand in surprise. Peter was hovering over him, just like he always imagined; breathing heavily, radiating pleasure and danger at the same time and looking down at him with that hungry expression Stiles saw on a few rare occasions. It was making it even more dangerous, so Stiles licked his swollen lips and tried to turn his head away to prevent more kissing, but Peter was quicker. He captured his lips with his and kissed him deeply and almost possessively while he bucked his hips into Stiles’ hands. The boy moaned shamelessly again and tightened his hands on Peter’s cock as he slowly started to fuck into them. His pace then picked up, and Stiles could only lay there with Peter between his legs and having a tight hold of his pulsating member as he helped himself.

“Oh god…” Stiles whimpered as he looked up at Peter who was thrusting into his grip. He was absolutely sensual. His brows were furrowed over his blue, glowing eyes and his parted lips were just as swollen as Stiles’. The neck of his shirt was open so the boy could see his sweaty collarbone and a part of his muscular chest and never wanted to lick it more than in that moment. A sound snapped him out of his trance. It was a moan, but it wasn’t his. It was Peter’s. The sound of it sent a wave of pleasure right through Stiles and he wanted to hear it again. And again. Against his ear, into their kisses and no matter where else as long as he was the one causing it.

Peter buried his face into Stiles’ shoulder as his body tensed up and the boy knew he was close. He squeezed him once again, feeling really satisfied by the shudder that followed it. The man’s movements got urgent and erratic and Stiles felt teeth against his neck again. His shivering hands sneaked under the boy’s shirt, pulling it up and stroking his skin, brushing over his nipple. This time Stiles was the one giving a scared moan and Peter was already there to muffle it with a kiss.

The man came with a loud growl, thrusting into Stiles’ grip rocking the whole couch with it. He made a huge mess against the boy’s trousers and stomach, and Stiles couldn’t help feeling a bit of satisfaction over that. Peter’s release was long and violent despite how difficult it had been to get him to even react, so Stiles was really glad he could make it work.

Both of them were out of breath and Stiles finally pulled his hands away, wiping them on Peter’s perfectly white couch. He totally deserved it, he thought. He opened his mouth to ask Peter to move, because he had some things to take care of himself. His erection wasn’t exactly subtle at this point and Stiles really wanted to get rid of it. But before he could say anything Peter’s tongue decided to try and choke him.

“Mmmm!” Stiles groaned and pushed against Peter’s shoulder, he really had to collect every last bit of his self restraint to do that. In his current state he was easy prey, and he knew that, and apparently Peter was aware of it too. “No, that’s enough…! No more kissing!” Stiles said loudly, turning his head away from Peter to make him understand.

“It’s not.” Peter’s voice was vibrating through his chest and Stiles felt like his lungs became smaller. “I can feel it Stiles, your body wants me.”

Stiles closed his eyes and cursed under his breath. He squirmed to get away from under Peter, but the man grabbed onto his waist, making Stiles jump. The boy knew what was coming. It happened almost every occasion. Peter always got greedy, and possessive and really pushy. At least before Stiles could pretend he’s not having the hots for him, but with a boner pressing against Peter’s abdomen this time it really was a lost case.

“Let me fuck you.”

“No.” Stiles answered immediately, out of breath. “No!” he repeated just in case. Because Peter maybe didn’t hear him. Because his fingers were stroking his crotch through his pants, making Stiles buck up.

“Why do you keep resisting me, Stiles?” Peter asked and Stiles finally looked at him. The man seemed like his normal self at last; no glowing eyes and his gaze was also clearer. It was slightly reassuring.

“Because you’re a dick.” Stiles answered, then gasped when Peter was unbuckling his belt. “No, no! Get your hands away from there, stop that!” he hissed and grabbed the man’s wrist to stop him, but it was in vain. Peter was much stronger than him, almost inhumanly so. “Don’t- don’t-!” Stiles’ shouts turned into whimpers when his hard flesh was in Peter’s grip. His fingers were hot and firm and Stiles winced as he was trying to resist the urge to move his hips.

“Let me go.” It wasn’t a demand anymore; it was his brain on auto-pilot. Because he really wanted Peter to finish the job, to make him come. But he shouldn’t let him do that. Have some shame, Stiles.

However, as usual, Peter didn’t listen to him. He always did as he pleased.

Stiles lost every bit of his restraint when the man squeezed him just the right amount before he started stroking him. The boy threw his hands against the man to push him away, but all he could manage was to grab his shirt. He was basically clinging to Peter as the man was working him with his rough hands and Stiles couldn’t stop his moaning anymore. He threw his head back as his hips set into the rhythm of Peter and he thought he was going to go mad when he felt a tongue against his neck. This was way beyond their business relationship…

Peter nibbled and licked his neck, his hand stroking him in a delicious and guilty way and Stiles felt himself coming closer. His release tore into him so suddenly that the boy yelled in both pleasure and surprise. Though it died in Peter’s mouth as he kissed him. He was kissing him while he was helping him through his orgasm and Stiles thought he was either going to go mad or choke to death. But he didn’t mind either because it was just so _good_ he saw stars.

Stiles felt his body turning powerless, his bones melted and his lungs were on fire as he was trying to catch his breath. He didn’t even remember when he last had such an intense release. The guilt only caught up to him a bit later, ruining the bliss he’d felt.

“Why didn’t you call me back…” he asked in a breathless whisper, tilting his head up to look into Peter’s face. He didn’t mean to ask it just like that, but that was the only question that mattered in that moment.

Peter was staring down at him for a long time with a tired expression. He was exhausted, with huge bags under his eyes and the lines on his face were deeper than Stiles remembered.

“Your pay’s on the coffee table.” he answered at last as he was moving away, wiping his messy hand on the couch just as Stiles had done. “Go now.”

“Peter!” Stiles gasped, grabbing the man’s shirt and yanking him. He knew that under different circumstances this move would have been a bad one, but right now he didn’t care. “I didn’t want to come, I didn’t- I don’t want to continue this, not like this! So at least tell me, why didn’t you call me back?!”

Peter frowned at him, but at least he was looking at him.

“I want to fuck you, Stiles.” he started in a low, growling voice. “But I don’t want anything else.”

“What…” the boy muttered the word, but as it left his lips he realized what Peter was saying. Stiles frowned, shaking his head in disbelief. He was glad in some way that his dilemma seemed to be easier right now. But it still hurt like a bitch for some reason, and he was feeling like a fool again. “Well…” he started, but his voice was weak so he needed a second to collect himself.

“Well then.” he said then, swallowing all his sorrow to give place to anger. “Tough luck, dude.” He hissed and pushed against Peter again to get away from under him. “We’re over, it’s done. Don’t call me anymore, and don’t ask Lydia either. I’m not going to do any more sucking for you. I’m done with you!” Stiles snarled and tucked himself back into his pants when he was finally free to move.

Peter just sighed and leaned back on the couch to tend to himself too before reaching over the table for the bottle of whiskey. Stiles caught a glimpse of the word ‘wolfsbane’ on the label. What the hell. But he shook his head and stood from the couch to set his belt. He took the envelope with his name on it from the table and pocketed it with shivering fingers.

Stiles just wanted to leave, and he knew he should, he finally told Peter what he wanted and he finally ended what they had. It was even easier than he had thought since Peter was thinking about this whole situation completely different from the boy, and that made it easier to end it. But only that part. Stiles knew that he was going to be a really antisocial roommate for the rest of the month after this. He should give a heads up to Scott.

But even with him being done, even when he knew that if he walks out the front door they won’t ever see each other again, he still hesitated. Maybe that was exactly why.

“Why are you drinking?” Stiles asked quietly, not moving from his spot.

“If you stay it counts as trespassing and I could shoot you.” Peter answered, absently looking over the broken glass by his feet.

“You’re too drunk to aim.” the boy commented with an eye roll.

“I can always try.” Peter sighed, rubbing his forehead, and looked at Stiles. “Why are you still here?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

Stiles licked his lips, then sighed through his nose and stomped to get his messenger bag.

“Asshole.” he hissed as he took the bag and slipped it on his shoulder. He didn’t look back as he was practically running toward the door. If Peter wanted him out, then he’s going to leave as soon as he can. Though he didn’t count on there being a wall after he opened the door. Or wait, it wasn’t a wall, it was someone built as a wall. “The fuck, dude?!” Stiles shouted at him as he stumbled back.

The man didn’t answer to him, just gave him a surprised but rather annoyed look. The worst part was that Stiles immediately recognized him. He was Derek Hale, Peter’s nephew. He was wearing a similar black suit and tie as Peter and had the same weary expression as him. Stiles frowned and opened his mouth to ask the question but someone got ahead of him.

“Who are you?” Cora Hale asked, she was wearing an elegant, black dress. The whole family was there, except Laura. Stiles knew the Hale family’s members, they were pretty popular. Also, he and Lydia did a bit of a check-up on Peter before they started any business with him. It was just protocol.

“No one.” Stiles answered quietly, swallowing. Then he spotted the taxi at the bottom of the stairs the two had arrived in and ran to it to prevent any further questions. Yes, he was angry at Peter, and yes, the man was a dick, but Stiles still wanted to be discreet about their officially ended business relationship. He hopped into the car, slamming the door shut and told the driver the address.

As they slowly drove down the driveway, he cast one last glance at the two figures as they entered the house. Curiosity was killing him, and he knew it wasn’t going to do him any good.

“Um…” he started turning to the driver again. “I’m not a spy or anything, but where did they… Where did you pick them up?”

The taxi driver eyed him for a moment, then shrugged.

“’T was a funeral. Big thing if ya ask me. Press was there too even if ‘t was this godforsaken hour.” he said.

“Funeral?” Stiles frowned, thinking about it. “This late?”

“Yea’.  One of ‘em Hales. Lana, or Laurie---“

“Laura...”

“Yea’.”

Stiles felt his chest tighten at the news. If it was true… then Laura Hale was dead. He turned his head to the house as they drove out of the gates. Something bad had happened with the Hales and Stiles knew it wasn’t his business. He had nothing to do with the Hales anymore. But maybe Peter had a bad effect on him, because even if it wasn’t his concern, he still decided to look deeper into it.

**Author's Note:**

> I made up wolfsbane whiskey and I'm not sorry...


End file.
